Chapter Eleven
I wake up to the hangover from hell.
Champagne and tequila are not a pretty combination. It’s way past ten, and I know we have to be at the main house at eleven thirty to begin the festivities. Kerri says Thanksgiving is a big deal for her family, and they always go all out and invite a ton of people to the party.
Jamie already texted me a turkey gif. I send one back, then tell him I’ll call him after I shower since I don’t have much time to get ready. I don’t wait for the lewd, sexual remark I know is about to follow. I take my time in the shower, and it actually does wonders for my headache. When I’m done, I get ready for the day.
I blow out my hair and fix my makeup, then slip into a long-sleeved, fitted brown cashmere dress Kerri gave me for my birthday. It comes above my knees, so I match it with the brown, knee-high suede boots she bought for me as well. They’re both famous designers so I can only imagine how much she spent on them. Though I’m all covered up, the dress is sexy, and paired with the boots, it’s next level. I put on the pearls I received from my mom when I graduated college. They belonged to my grandmother, and they are the only expensive piece of jewelry I own. They’re probably not even worth that much, but sentimentally, they mean something.
Because I’m feeling pretty good about myself, I decide to FaceTime Jamie.
He picks up after two rings. He looks really handsome and very east-coast preppy. Or maybe it’s the whole scene going on behind him. He’s holding his phone far enough away from him that I can see what’s going on in the background. He has what looks to be a huge family. I can see kids crawling around each other and screaming—as they tend to do—lots of young people walking around, and a large table that probably seats around twenty-five is set in the back. It’s exactly the way Thanksgiving should look.
I can feel the fire in Jamie’s eyes when he looks at me.
“You look gorgeous.” His gaze sweeps over my face in admiration. “I’m jealous. You’re not all dolled up for me.”
I bloom from the compliment. “But you get to see.”
“Seeing is not touching,” Jamie grumbles.
A really attractive woman walks by behind him and looks at the phone with a scowl, like one of those weird people during live news broadcasts who wave at the camera while the reporter is talking and don’t realize how creepy they look—exactly like that.
“Who’s that?” I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea who it is.
Jamie turns his head and gives me a ghost of a smile. “Fiona.”
“Ahhh.” It’s all I can bring myself to say out loud since I don’t want to insult her.
“So what’s on the agenda today?” Jamie asks, changing the subject.
“Going over to Kerri’s parents place now and probably just—”
“Going to eat and drink all day.” Kerri chimes in as she walks up behind me and waves at the phone. “Hi, Jamie. Bye, Jamie. We’re late.”
Jamie gives Kerri a dirty look. “I thought I liked you,” he scowls.
“You do,” Kerri assures him with a wink. “We gotta go.”
I laugh and wave at Jamie.
“I’ll text you later,” I tell him. He looks so jealous, it makes my heart happy. Especially now that I know what kind of emotions I’m dealing with on my side of the equation.
We hang up, and Kerri and I take off for the party.
Kerri’s dressed elegantly in a pair of skintight green suede pants and an oversized matching cashmere sweater. Her hair is slicked back, and the only jewelry she has on are a pair of enormous diamond studs that are so big you can probably see them from outer space. Gold heels finish off her look.
“You look really good,” I tell her in admiration.
“Was going to say the same to you,” she says. “Can you drive the cart?”
“No problem,” I say in surprise. She usually needs to be the one in control. I know why a second later when she lights up a joint.
“Hello?” I shake my head at her. “We’re walking into your parents Thanksgiving party.”
“That’s exactly why I need this,” she tells me with a roll of her eyes. “Want some?”
“No, thank you.” I’m not into it.
When Kerri’s done, she puts out the joint on the side of the cart.
“Get ready for the circus of crazies,” Kerri mutters as I pull up to the veranda and park. The party is already in full swing, and we’re not even that late. There must be at least fifty people standing around, while servers pass around cocktails and hor d’oeuvres. This is definitely unlike any Thanksgiving I’ve ever been to, and to be honest, what was going on at Jamie’s family’s house seems a lot more my speed.
We walk up the stairs and get admiring looks from a bunch of the men in the crowd. Many of the older men, I’m assuming her father’s friends, check Kerri out, but she acts like she doesn’t see.
“Let’s get a drink,” she says and nods a few hellos to some of the people we pass in the crowd. “I’ll be back, Aunt Julia,” she says to an impeccably dressed older woman.
Aunt Julia looks a lot like Mrs. Harrington with the same kind of demeanor.
Kerri walks off with purpose. When I woke up, I didn’t think I could take another drink, but now, looking around at this crowd, I can’t wait to have one to take the edge off. Kerri doesn’t disappoint and hands me an exotic-looking martini from a station they have going.
“You realize it’s not even noon,” I scold her and myself but take the drink anyway.
“Trust me,” she says with a knowing smile. “You’re going to need it.”
Kerri’s eyes flicker toward someone standing behind me, and I watch her groan right before taking a long sip of her drink. She pops an olive in her mouth.
“It’s creepy Uncle Vern,” she says in disgust. “Let me go say hi so he doesn’t think he can come over here and start to hit on you.”
“What?” I laugh, wondering which one the creepy uncle is, then—
Oh. Ew. I see him. He definitely looks the part.
“I’ll be right back, Wyld,” she tells me. “And you’re welcome, by the way… just don’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll be here.” I laugh at her annoyed face and take another sip of the best martini I’ve ever had. Since I’m going on an empty stomach, I should probably eat some type of carb so I don’t get sick or drunk—whichever comes first. I make my way to a long buffet table filled with all sorts of appetizers and assortments. I pick up a small plate and start to fill it with yummy-looking pastries.
“That plate of goodies you chose all on your own makes you the most attractive woman at the party,” a husky voice says to me from behind.
I turn around and for the first time come face-to-face with Colt Harrington, Kerri’s brother. I recognize him from all the pictures around the house, and honestly, they don’t do him justice. He’s better looking in person. He has sandy-blond hair and blue eyes, like Kerri. He’s tall and fit, like the way you’d picture a Norse God. And I’m sure the mischievous look in his eyes has made many hearts pitter-patter. Kerri tells me he’s a bit of a player and that she really doesn’t believe he’ll ever settle down.
“Is it the carbs?” I ask as I lift a tiny croissant.
“You eat,” he says in admiration, and we both laugh. From the way he’s looking at me, I can tell he’s interested. “I’m Colt.”
“Wylder.”
“I like it.” Colt checks me out. “And I remember hearing about you. So now I actually like a lot about you.”
Colt is forward and definitely has no problem making the moves on me. His confidence is actually really attractive.
“That’s too bad,” Kerri says, cutting in as she slips her arm around his waist. “Cause she’s my best friend, and I’m keeping her.”
Colt picks Kerri up in his arms and hugs her tightly. The love they have for each other is evident for anyone to see. Kerri has never said anything but good things about her brother, and I know they speak pretty often, which is surprising considering their ten-year age gap. You would think they wouldn’t be this close.
“How’s my princess doing?” he asks as he spins her around and then sets her on the ground. “How does she feel about joining the work force?”
“She likes it for the most part,” Kerri tells him. “But some of the people are definitely assholes.”
“When you’re done playing around, let me know because we have a seat reserved for you at the big table.”
I watch Kerri grimace. I know what Colt is referring to. Her brother and father want her to join the family business. They think this entertainment pursuit is a joke and a waste of her time.
Sometimes I wonder how Kerri feels about it all because I don’t really know if I believe her heart is in entertainment.
“Never happening,” she says with a sweet smile. “Now where’s your favorite and only sister’s gift? You were in Hong Kong, Singapore, and Japan for over three months… Just so you know, I’m expecting something that’s going to blow my mind.”
I don’t know what else Kerri could ever have that could blow anyone’s mind, including her own, but if anyone can find it, it would probably be her brother who grew up with the same silver spoon.
“I got you something very different this time.” It sounds mysterious. “I’m hoping it will inspire you.”
“I’m intrigued.” I look at Kerri and lift a brow.
“And I’m very intrigued by you,” Colt says as he takes a step toward me.
“Step away from the best friend, Colt,” Kerri grumbles. “You’re not breaking any more hearts. Besides, she’s taken, and he might even be a better catch than you.”
Colt’s eyes narrow, and he cocks an arrogant brow at Kerri, asking how that could even be possible.
It’s possible.
He casually takes Kerri’s drink out of her hand and sips on it. “I guess it’s settled then. Wylder’s off limits.” He sighs dramatically. “So let’s just get trashed. I’ll give you your present later.”
Kerri gives her brother a wide smile. “Then we’ll just eat and play Monopoly in the den,” Kerri says in excitement.
“With Game of Thrones on in the background,” I say like a little kid.
“Let’s go,” Kerri says.
Along our way to the soon-to-be-party room, Colt grabs a bottle of vodka from behind the bar and as many glasses as he can hold. He whispers to one of the waiters, and I’m sure he’s telling them to bring food and drink into the study. Kerri invites a couple of her fun cousins to join, and before you know it, we’re having a full game-day party in the den, and it couldn’t be more fun.
“OMG, Wyld.” Kerri practically stumbles toward me, more buzzed than I’ve ever seen her in my life. “Let’s do a funny post for Instagram.”
I wonder if it’s a good idea. “I don’t know…”
“Come on!” Kerri pats my cheek, then has one of her cousin’s film us on her iPhone. We both do a funny dance she intends on speeding up and posting on her Insta Story.
This post leads to another and then another, and soon enough, we’ve got even poor, drunk Colt to dance in between us. We hug. We toast. We are basically a bunch of hot messes all over social media. I’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow, but today—right now to be exact—it feels really good. I know I’m the dancing queen. I know I am.
After we’re all lying on the couch in a drunken food coma and watching Game of Thrones, I finally remember to check my phone. OMG. I totally forgot to text Jamie. It’s been hours, and I feel like such a jerk.
There are definitely a few missed calls.
And some texts.
I try to focus my eyes, which is hard to do considering the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed, but then I feel sobriety start to sink in as my eyes scan the words on the screen.
JAMIE: Hi babe, how’s your day?
An hour later, he sends a funny-face emoji.
Two hours later comes the oh-shit-I-might-be-in-trouble moment.
JAMIE: Who’s the prick you’re dancing with?
And then there’s nothing.
He saw Kerri’s Insta Story. Oh, no… There’s no way it was pretty. I text him back quickly.
ME: Hi! Sorry I haven’t texted. I think we had a few too many! I’m just hanging with Kerri and her brother, Colt.
No response.
I wait a few minutes, then send him my own funny-face emoji. Still no response. What the fuck? He can’t be that mad, can he? And then I think about how I would react… I would want to kill me! I’m so crazy, I’d probably even break up with him.
Break up with him!
Oh, no. That’s a terrible idea!
I get up quickly and move away from the group. They don’t mind because they are all glued to the television watching “The Red Wedding.” I call Jamie. It rings a few times, then goes to voicemail. To be honest, I start to really panic. I can’t help myself and call again like a psycho.
And repeat. One more time and it doesn’t even ring. It goes to his voicemail. I hang up and close my eyes.
He can’t really be mad, can he?
He’s so fucking mad.
Unfortunately, I worry myself right into sobriety, and once in this state, I start to panic. I realize I’m going to need to get a grip. I can’t do anything or defend myself until I hear from him. And who knows, I might be overreacting.
Nice try.
There’s absolutely nothing for me to do or that I can do until he calls me back. I walk to the couch and sit back down. I try not to let misery take over, but I can’t help it. I’m really worried.
I make eye contact with Kerri, and she looks concerned. I must look as sick as I feel. I shake my head and mouth to her that I’m okay but do take the moment to reach over and grab my newly refilled martini. I’m guessing Kerri took care of that empty glass problem for me.
Jamie doesn’t call all night or respond to any of my texts. When I don’t hear from him, I know my worst suspicions have come to life.
He always texts and always calls. It’s just who he is, so I know he is for sure ignoring me. When I crawl into my bed that night, I do break the seal and text him one more time before I thankfully pass out.
The message is honest and comes from my heart.
ME: I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.
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I’m lying in bed and having the best dream of my life.
The best.
I’m on a beach with Jamie, and he has me naked. He’s massaging my breasts, stroking me until I’m whimpering, and I’m begging him for release. Suddenly it’s there, and it’s happening, and I’m coming so hard, and oh, wow—
I’m really coming.
I open my eyes and look at the tanned, muscular arm wrapped around my waist. I’d recognize it anywhere. It belongs to Jamie Donovan.
I close my eyes. Am I tripping? Were those brownies we ate last night laced with something I didn’t know about?
No. That’s his Jamie smell around me… like pine and rain and something fresh and happy. Something you want to come home to.
“Jamie?” I whisper in surprise and serious euphoria.
“Wylder.” His gruff voice rambles against my neck.
I turn in his arms and wrap myself around him like a vine. I rain kisses all over his face and chest. I’m so happy to see him that it takes me a moment to notice he’s just lying there on his back with his fingers laced behind his neck, staring up at me like I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.
I stop what I’m doing and look at him in trepidation. “I thought you were mad at me.”
“I was mad at you,” he admits slowly and almost methodically. “But then halfway here on the plane I chartered—after ripping my pilot away from his family at midnight on Thanksgiving evening and leaving my own shocked and thinking there’s seriously something wrong with their son—I realized how insane my behavior was.”
I fight a smile, but his next words stop me cold.
“I realized I was acting like you.” His eyes narrow and darken. “I had officially become Wylder Alma Buchanan. I might as well have a period.”
“Right.” I narrow my eyes at him.
“I was irrational. I was mad at you for no reason. For drunk-dancing with some loser?” When he says this, he stops to think about it for a moment and then his body goes taut. There’s a fire shooting out of his eyes, and it nearly takes my breath away. “By the way, if you ever do that again, I’ll fucking murder him and chain you to my side,” he practically growls. “I’m not going to see another video, picture, or any type of social media shit like that again, Wylder. I’m not. Not my girlfriend. Promise me right now.”
I don’t love his tone or him ordering me around, but I understand why he’s mad. And I get it. He’s in the public eye and if I’m with him, I guess I am now by default—and not only, I put myself in his shoes and I wouldn’t like it either.
“I promise.”
“Good.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He sounds exhausted. “You’re a fucking witch.”
“What?” I gasp in outrage.
“I left my family on Thanksgiving evening.” He seems really mad at himself, and it makes me feel guilty, but then he says the best thing ever. “And I’m fucking happy I did. I’d rather be with you.”
He stares at me long and hard, his greens eyes bright with something I’ve never seen.
“I must be in love with your or something, because there is no other logical fucking explanation for my temporary insanity.” Jamie sounds like he’s just tasted something bitter and pungent, something he really finds repulsive.
And I think I’m going to faint.
Holy.
Shit.